


Lotta Lumber

by sunwashigh



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwashigh/pseuds/sunwashigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Iron Bull says something insensitive in front of Inquisitor Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lotta Lumber

The place gave her the creeps. She complained to Solas before they left that she didn’t want to go. “I read about the Emerald Graves, you know, to be well-versed, and I read that every tree is said to represent all the elves that died during the Exalted March, hence the name…” She clenched her fist, careful not to be too angry. The mark would flare up. 

“Yes. The Dales have a very dark history.” He sat at his desk, wondering where she was going with this.

“Why can’t we give the Dales back to the elves and let them live their lives?” She knew why. She grew up with the stories. Her father would curse the humans as he retold the story of Emerald Knights, who shot first. 

“You will not be there long, da'len.” He gave her a warm smile that the Inquisitor did not return.

* * *

Her eyes wandered. The trees were so tall. Taller than any she had ever seen. Even in death, the elves were grand. Ashalla sighed, hiding the sadness, grumbling. “I want to knock down every statue here dedicated to Andraste.” Only Dorian heard her and chuckled. “If only you could…”

For the most part the group was quiet. Cole didn’t read anyone’s pain, only making sure that Dorian wouldn’t go near the parts that were too naturey with insects. The Iron Bull flanked the behind, secretly counting all the trees. There were so many. Too many.

“I don’t know why Orlais doesn’t use this place… Lotta good lumber here going to waste.”

She stopped in her tracks, stiffening. She had been careful where she stepped, praying to the Enavuris to help the souls lost here because of the humans. She was stressed and tired from worrying. Solas had taught her ways to calm down and not panic before she left. She even had wards to keep from having nightmares about linger spirits and souls. 

Cole’s eyes darkened. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

The Inquisitor turned and glared at her vhenan. How dare he? “Ashalla?” “What did you just say?” She asked, careful not to stomp over to him. Dorian stepped back. He knew instinctively that she was pissed. She usually kept it at a simmer. He remembered the long rant about the Orlesians and her immediate regret about bringing Briala and the Empress back together. At the expense of her people…  "I said your nam-“ 

"Before that.” She was now right in front of him, her hands on her hips. The Iron Bull raised his eyebrow, watching as his Kadan was holding her tongue from yelling at him.

He sucked in a breath, knowing what he said was wrong, really wrong. He didn’t really mean it though. Or did he? “I… I’m sorr-" 

"No you’re not! My people died here! ‘We are the last Elvhen, never again shall we submit!’ Are you really so insensitive that you think about the use for this instead of the symbolism?” Her eyes filled with tears, her hand beginning to glow and shake. “I’ve a mind to say the word.  ** _Dirthara-ma!_** ” She turned on her heel and kept silent until they reached the camp in Direstone.

Cole entered her tent, the mark wouldn’t go down and she was still angry and now crying, no, sobbing. He sat next to her, unsure what to say. The mark was making it harder to read her, even more than usual. “He’s sorry. He truly is.” He avoid her eyes, knowing they were darting at him, hot and heavy with frustration. 

“I should have listened to my keeper.” She spat, nursing her hand. “'Ne'er trust shemlen. They don’t understand the history.’” She whimpered, clenching her fist. “You do need to watch your anger, Inquisitor.” Cole cautioned, the tent was getting warmer. He worried she’d burn it down on accident.

He left, seeing the conversation going nowhere. It hurt that he couldn’t heal her pain. He went and sat next to Dorian. “I guess it’s your turn.” The Tevinter stood, worried. If the spirit couldn’t help her, then how could he? 

The Iron Bull went for a walk, trying to cool off. She didn’t even give him the chance for rebuttal, only yelling and the silent treatment. If this was anywhere but this 'holy’ land of hers, he’d chop down a tree.

Dorian came in, sighing. “Ashalla.” He immediately fanned himself. “Ashalla. You need to calm down.” Her eyes sharpened at him. “Says the Tevinter.” He put his hands up, to surrender. “I’m telling you to calm down because it’s hurting you.” He pointed at the mark. “And you’re going to burn the place down." 

She frowned, feeling the tears stream down her cheeks. "How could he say that? So stupid.” She hugged her knees, quieting the sobs. “This isn’t the Dirthavaren, but something more. My people died here, trying to save what they believed in from humans.” She said resting her head on her knees. “I… I figured he would know that coming here bothered me. I don’t say anything bad about the Qun." 

"That’s because no one knows anything about the Qun.” Dorian sat next to her, the mark finally subduing. “Maybe you two should talk it out." 

A moment passed and Dorian asked, "Is this your first fight?” Ashalla shrugged. “Probably.” She sniffed, lying back on her cot. “If he comes back, don’t tell him anything.” He raised his eyebrows. “Why?” “I want him to suffer.” She turned on her side, exhausting herself out by crying. He stood, figuring she’d take a nap. 

“Oh, Ashalla. What does dirthara-ma mean?” She smirked, closing her eyes. “May you learn…”

* * *

He came back when it was starting to get dark. He found some Freemen and kicked their teeth in, probably with overkill, but he didn’t care. Out here, there was no where he could go to take his anger out without regretting it later with Ashalla. 

He remembered her face, the fire in her eyes. He thought for sure she’d throw a fireball at him. Instead she used her words, threatening to end their relationship. That hurt more anyway. His heart would have stopped right there if she yelled 'katoh.' 

Why did he go for the elf? He could have went for the other mage, Dorian. He gave him signals, before Ashalla. But now here he was, slumping at the fire to get the rest of what they had for dinner.

She came out of the tent, her hair unruly and clothes disheveled. She sat opposite of him, ignoring him. She chatted it up with some soldier. Elven, of course. “Isn’t this place sad?” He took the bait, unknowingly to further their argument. “Yeah. My hahren used to tell us stories about The People and their glory. I used to not believe him, being in an alienage. But now that I’m here…" 

He stood and went to his tent. Ashalla’s eyes watched as Bull left. Serves him right.

* * *

He opened her tent and came in while she was reading reports sent to her by Leliana. His dark massing figure was enough to get a small shriek out of the small elf. "Oh come off it.” He sat next to her, furrowing his eyebrow. “We had a fight. Sort of.”

“It wasn’t sort of. And it isn’t 'had’. We never resolved it. And frankly, I’m not in the moo-" 

"So do you want to just call it quits then? I’ve said sorry many times. I forgot for a split second that you’re an elf, a Dalish elf and you really protect and keep your history close to you. I get it. I do that for the Qun, even though I’m Tal-Vashoth.”

She closed her eyes, thinking about it. Calling it quits… It frightened her. “I’m an asshole, I know it. And I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m not in this relationship to hurt you. I just spoke without thinking.” He scratched his horns, wondering if this was the end. She was quiet now.

He stared at the tent opening while she thought. “I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered. She put the reports to the side and crawled over to him. “What you said, however, really hurt me. More than your ropes could ever.” He grimaced, knowing that. “I…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. 

“Katoh. I got it Boss.” He kept his eyes forward and hardened his heart. 

“I don’t want to.” She said, touching his shoulder. “I don’t want to say that.” She bit her lip, did he want that? “We just… need to work past this. Think about our words before we say them.” Ashalla explained, feeling the knot in her throat grow three times as big. “But if you want to end this…" 

He turned to her. "I don’t.” His finger wiped away a stray tear.

In one day he misspoke twice. Insult her people and then breakup. She wrapped her arms around his chest, crawling to his lap. She hid her face, crying. “I forgive you.” She sobbed, holding him tighter, afraid he would go. He did say the word.

His arms embraced her, his heart softening. This was why he was still with her. He surprisingly loved her. She was his heart in every sense of the word. She pulled away for air, looking up at him. 

“You need to watch what you say, though. It hurt… A lot.” He nodded, “Okay, boss.” He lied her back down, allowing her to stretch. 

“Will you stay?” She asked, seeing him ready himself for returning to his tent. The Qunari considered this. 

“Make up sex is supposed to be really hot or whatever. Why not?” Her eyes widened, “You ass!”

He leaned down, kissing her, his chest and now face, wet with her tears. “I’ll stay, Kadan.”

**Author's Note:**

> dirthara-ma - may you learn  
> hahren - elder  
> kadan - my heart  
> vhenan - heart  
> Dirthavaren - 'The Promise' / Exalted Plains


End file.
